Horcrux Children
by WellTravelledHalf
Summary: It was undoubtedly the most twisted thing he had ever done. He, the all-powerful Dark Lord Voldemort, had found a way to not only make a living, breathing human Horcrux, but to also carry on the Gaunt (and therefore Slytherin) lineage. He would make these children his Horcruxes.
1. Chapter 1

It was undoubtedly the most twisted thing he had ever done. But he felt no remorse, all he felt was burning fascination, sick satisfaction, and pure glee. He, the all-powerful Dark Lord Voldemort, had found a way to not only make a living, breathing _human_ Horcrux, but to also carry on the Gaunt (and therefore Slytherin) lineage.

He had made his first Horcruxes (his journal and the Gaunt ring) when he was still the ambitious but reckless Tom Riddle. In his excitement and desire to attain immortality he hadn't fully researched the consequences of making a Horcrux, not that there was much information on it to begin with. Later, he had found out that the process had made him sterile, unable to produce an heir to the Slytherin line. While he was furious at not being able to produce a Dark Heir, he was more furious that this ability had been taken away from him without his consent. He had found something he _could not_ do. Voldemort despised the idea that other people had something that he could not possess.

Every moment not spent building his army of Death Eaters was spent researching and studying how he could regain the ability to pass down his Slytherin blood. Ironically, the answer lay in Horcruxes themselves.

Many knew about the Dark Lord's lust for power, but few knew that he had an equally insatiable lust for knowledge. Perhaps, if his life as a young boy had gone in a different direction, he would have ended up in Ravenclaw.

In his later years at Hogwarts he had stumbled upon some disturbing information which led him to formulate an equally disturbing theory. He had noted that the purer the bloodline in a wizarding family, the likelier the chance that the family would bear a squib. He refused to acknowledge the information until December 1978, the day he had perfected the process needed to carry on his Slytherin blood.

His glee brought on by his plan was slowly stifled by a sliver a doubt. He knew that the only reason that he was the powerful wizard he was today was because the magic in his Gaunt blood had been reenergised when combined with the blood of his filthy muggle father. He suspected that the generations of inbreeding and only breeding with other purebloods had smothered the wild nature of magic in their veins- leading it to become more controllable but also significantly weaker. The blood was too pure, the magic was heavy and potent and trapped. The introduction of new blood, he grudgingly admitted, allowed his magic to flow freely again. With that, he came up with an idea for his third Horcrux. The idea disgusted him but he couldn't deny his curiousity.

On the 20th of December he left the Malfoy mansion and made his way to muggle London under disguise. His destination was one of the two existing sperm banks in London. Voldemort quelled his disgust as he entered the building. It is an experiment, he told himself, an experiment that may yield wonderful results. Besides, if his little experiment didn't succeed, he could always extract his soul from the child later and bind it to another object.

A couple Imperius curses and memory charms later he exited the building, leaving behind a piece of his soul and his seed implanted in the womb of a Mrs. Granger.

Voldemort was satisfied. He didn't even have to touch the filthy muggles, he just slipped the vial to the doctor and after the deed was done he proceeded to undergo the Horcrux ritual while the Grangers and the doctor stared blankly at the floor. The child would grow up to be a wizard, they would attend Hogwarts just as he had. He imagined that the old idiot Dumbledore would be completely oblivious to the fact that a piece of his soul would be walking through the hallways of Hogwarts, right under his nose. The wizard would even be protecting it, Voldemort thought with glee.

He was still hesitant about one of his heirs being born to _muggle_ parents, but it was for the sake of the experiment- it would just have to do. He'd make sure his next Horcruxes, his next heirs, were purebloods.

His plans continued smoothly. He had known that his old classmate, Nott, had struggled and was close to giving up on producing an heir. All it took was a few smooth promises of success for the man to offer his frail, young wife to the Dark Lord, so a "fertility ritual" could be performed. His followers had thought it was very generous of him.

He didn't even have to lie to Bellatrix, knowing that she would be more than willing to offer her body to him. It was not something he particularly enjoyed- having no interest in those matters, but it was something that had to be done. He almost felt sorry for Rodolphus.

His sixth Horcrux he had made on a whim. He was researching an alternate method of producing the child Horcruxes when he had been informed that several aurors had been captured attempting to storm the Lestrange Manor.

When he portkeyed to the manor Bellatrix was waiting for him.

"My Lord," she bowed, staring up at him with devotion. She had one had placed over her swollen belly.

"Bella," he crowed, "I trust you've been keeping healthy."

"Oh yes, my Lord," she croaked, grasping the hem of his cloak.

"Show me to these aurors," he ordered.

She led him to the Lestrange dungeons where he could see that the majority of the dissidents had already been broken by the Cruciatus. That is, except for one women shackled in the corner cell of the dungeon. Two of his Death Eaters stood outside the cell, wands reluctantly pointed at her.

"What's going on here?" He demanded.

"M-My Lord," they stuttered before dropping to the floor in a bow.

"Well?" He asked, "Why has she not tortured for information?"

The two young men glanced at each other wearily before one answered, "She-She's with child my Lord."

Voldemort tsked, new Death Eaters- they had yet to be trained.

"Go upstairs and wait for my punishment," He ordered.

They fled the room.

"Oh please, my Lord," Bellatrix begged from behind him, "Let me do it, I would not disappoint you."

"Now Bella," Voldemort said, cupping Bellatrix's face, "I don't want you to overexert yourself. Wait for me upstairs, keep those other two in line."

"Yes, my Lord," she bowed and left the room.

He turned back to the short-haired women glaring defiantly at him. The small bulge in her stomach was barely noticeable.

"Well, congratulations on your pregnancy, Mrs…?"

The woman didn't answer, and chose to spit at his feet instead. Voldemort smiled cruelly, as the gears spun in his mind. Yes, she would do just fine.

" _Stupefy!"_

An hour later Voldemort left the dungeon. The women, who he had come to recognise as the famous auror, Alice Longbottom, was unconscious in her cell, unaware that her unborn child had just been made into a Horcrux.

Ten months later Voldemort was revelling in his success. He was sitting in the throne room in Malfoy manor, reflecting on his previous months work. Nott's wife had given birth to a boy in November- which he was exceedingly pleased about. The boy had inherited his mother's light brown hair and the trademark pureblood grey eyes. Two months later Bellatrix had given birth to a girl. The baby had her mother's face, albeit more soft, and his dark eyes. He hadn't checked on his half-blood child but it would reveal itself soon enough, when it came time to go to Hogwarts, then he might claim it- or kill it, whichever suited him best.

All was going well, that was, until Severus burst into the room and threw himself at his the Dark Lord's feet.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hermione_

Ever since she was little Hermione Granger knew she was different. And it wasn't just her unusual intelligence that made her think so, it was other things as well. Sometimes when she walked through the park with her father she would hear people whispering- only there would be no one around but them. Once, on a holiday to Australia, the voices around her had gotten so loud- all talking over each other, that she had burst out crying and refused to go outside the hotel room.

There were other things as well. Sometimes she could make books fall from the highest shelves in the library when she really wanted them. Other times the children who bullied her would trip over nothing and horribly bruise or injure themselves. She wasn't scared of her powers, she knew she was special- it was only a matter of finding out how and why. It was this strange magic coupled with her sharp mind that would fuel her desire for knowledge.

She had been largely unsuccessful in both controlling her powers and finding out what was behind them until her Hogwarts letter came. Then, much to her irritation, the mystery resolved itself. She was a witch.

 _Theo_

"Sit up, Theodore." His father commanded.

"Yes, father," the stringy boy replied.

They sat at a long mahogany table, eating their breakfast. Theo glanced up at the seat opposite him and to the left of his father. That had been his mother's seat. She had died when Theo was very young, having been sick since his birth. Sometimes he liked to imagine that she was sitting there, smiling at him with her grey eyes.

A house elf popped into the room, its eyes cast down at the floor as it extended its arms.

"Letters for Masters Nott and Masters Theo," It squeaked.

The older Nott took the letters from the house elf and it quickly popped away.

Theo glanced at his father and noted that the man was feeling particularly pleased, there was a hint of pride in his eyes as he looked across to Theo. The eleven year old saw a flash of his Hogwarts letter reflected the man's thoughts. He smiled as he accepted the letter a moment later.

Theo, for as long as he could remember, had been able to tell what people were thinking by looking into their eyes. Sometimes people had mental barriers that prevented him from doing so, but most of the time he could still skim across their surface thoughts. If he was very close to the person, like his father, he could even tell how the person felt by just being in their presence. He had told his father about his powers when he was nine and his father had been overjoyed- his son was a natural Legilimens! Of course, Mr Nott told a select few close friends and the news spread like wildfire among the pureblood community- just as Mr Nott had intended.

Theo skimmed over his acceptance letter. He was looking forward to his first year at Hogwarts. Not particularly for the learning, as he and the other pureblood children had been privately tutored since they were old enough to hold a quill, but more for the novelty of it all. Theo knew he lived a very sheltered life. It would be interesting and entertaining to have some new experiences. Plus, he would get to stay in a dorm with his best friend, Blaise- and that was bound to be fun.

 _Electra_

Electra Lestrange was watching her idiot of a cousin make a fool out of the two great buffoons that followed him around. She idly ran her fingers through her long dark hair as she reminisced about the short-lived peace period she had enjoyed when she finally gathered enough blackmail to keep Draco's bullying at bay. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of the idea before, and was only prompted to take action after they had got into a particularly nasty fight ending in Draco managing to chop a chunk of her prized black locks off. She had wanted to retaliate with violence so badly, it took all her willpower to not punch Draco in his snotty little nose. She knew she couldn't. Uncle Lucius wouldn't stand for it. She knew her place in the household- she was an unwanted guest.

The thought of her situation in the Malfoy household always made her bitter and angry, it didn't help that Draco was pathetic brat. She never liked it when she got angry, sometimes images and feelings would flash through her mind- images of her performing the Cruciatus, or the feeling of casting the Killing Curse. Those thoughts scared her because they weren't entirely hers, but she couldn't explain where they came from. She had begun to suspect that she was a Seer, although the images she saw didn't exactly _feel_ like they were from the future. However, there were many branches of Divination, perhaps she just had yet to find out where her strange visions fit. It's not like she actively researched it, anyways.

Electra sighed, readjusting her position on the hard stone bench. She flicked through her copy of _Teen Witch_ and made a note to ask Daphne if she had seen the latest set of fitted robes from Madame Malkins. She lifted her head and scanned the gardens around her. If Aunt Narcissa caught her with the magazine she would be scolded- her aunt thought it was horribly beneath her to read "such nonsense". Just as she was about to turn her head down to read she spotted Draco and his friends enter the inner garden from across the fountain. She quickly sat on the magazine before bringing out a small gold book titled _The Little Witches Guide to Etiquette._ She knew it wasn't very convincing but the book was convenient enough in size that she could take it around the Manor with her and pull it out if she needed to.

"I _saw_ that, Electra!" Draco called from across the garden. She stifled a groan as he approached.

"Give it to me," Draco demanded, "I'm telling mother you're reading that nonsense again."

Electra looked up and reminded herself to be polite. After years of living with the boy she had learned that the best way to appeal to him was to give in, suck up, and lather on the praise- or, alternatively, blackmail.

"I'm sorry, Draco," She said, guiltily pulling the magazine out from under her, "I was just trying to have a little fun. I mean, like you, I enjoy being a little bit rebellious from time to time."

Draco paused, his grey eyes regarding her in confusion.

"But unfortunately, I'm not as great at quidditch as you are." She continued, "If I was, I would've loved to have joined you last week when you managed to break two of the greenhouse windows with that bludger. That was so daring of you!"

Draco's expression changed from indignant to confused to haughty. He settled on haughty. "Well, I suppose we can't all be great at quidditch like me," he huffed, "I'll let you off this time. See to it that mother doesn't catch you. Also, mother said that we'd be getting our Hogwarts letters this afternoon. She wants us inside the house by three."

With one last look he strode away with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. What a dolt, Electra thought.

 _Neville_

"Neville! Pay attention!" An ancient looking woman barked.

The young, slightly chubby dark haired boy sitting at the table in front of her nodded, "Y-Yes, Gran."

"And don't stutter, boy! It's unbecoming!"

"Yes, Gran." He repeated.

He was going through his daily lessons under the watchful eye of his grandmother. He was supposed to have stopped the lessons when he was ten, like all the other children, but his grandmother thought that he hadn't done well enough and had arranged for extra.

As far back as Neville could remember he had always been a nervous boy. He knew he was the only one to blame for this but he couldn't help it. He felt like there was a constant battle going on in his body that showed itself when he was put under pressure. His grandmother and uncle told him to not be silly- that it was all in his head. He completely agreed with them but he had no idea of what he could do about it.

"Neville! Are you listening?" His grandmother barked, "Honestly, you lazy boy! Imagine if your parents could see you now!"

Neville started sweating. His grandmother was in a particularly bad mood today.

"Alright, well, if you're not going to do it properly you might as well go out and play."

He let out a long sigh once his grandmother had left the study. He supposed that she was being particularly harsh on him lately because he was going to go to Hogwarts after the summer and she didn't want him to make a fool of himself- which he was bound to do. Heck, his grandmother and his uncle had thought he was a squib until he was about eight and his accidental magic kicked in after he was dropped by his uncle from a second story window. But Neville had known he wasn't a squib. He had done magic before, a couple times even. And he hadn't wanted to do it again. Every time he performed slightest bit of magic- accidental or not, something terrible happened.

There was one time when he was five, he was playing out in the garden when his grandmother's cat brought in barely breathing frog. Angry at the cat for killing the poor frog, Neville had smacked the cat away. He felt a pulse of magic escape from him and the cat dropped the frog and started convulsing. Neville screamed as he watched the cats legs snap into odd angles. His uncle had come out to find the cat dead, thinking that some wild dog had probably gotten to it.

Years after the incident he was having a picnic by the beach with Ernie and Susan's families. They were playing in a cove partially hidden from the adult's sight when Ernie had started teasing him about being too scared to swim. With an uncharacteristic burst of confidence he had coolly told Ernie to show him how good _he_ was at swimming. Strangely, Ernie had dropped the bucket he was carrying and started walking out into the water. Susan and Neville watched in horror as Ernie continued walking deeper into the ocean, all while keeping his head in the water. Susan had ran to their parents and Ernie's father had swam out to fetch the barely breathing boy. Neville had known he had done something wrong.

No, he wasn't a squib. But Neville Longbottom was terrified of his magic.

 __

 _Harry_

Harry was once again locked in his closet. This time it was due to the incident at the zoo. He didn't know what he did or how he did it or whether he was imagining it or not, but he had talked to a snake then made the glass of its enclosure disappear! It was like magic.

Unfortunately, as always, he received the yelling of a lifetime from his uncle and aunt. This time, he mused, he actually deserved it.

Harry turned on his small, dusty cot. He supposed that he should have stopped wishing for a better life years ago but he just couldn't help but hold on to that tiny sliver of hope that maybe, just _maybe,_ things would change.

He sighed and tried to quell that little spark in his heart but found he just couldn't. He was hopelessly full of hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione had thought long and hard about what house she was going to be in and she had finally come to a decision. She knew she was practically _born_ for Ravenclaw, but she was going to be Gryffindor. When it came time to be sorted she planned on summoning all her bravest memories- that mostly consisted of defending herself against bullies, and she was going to _make_ that hat put her in Gryffindor.

She shut her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ resolutely and turned to look out the window at the crowded platform. She had been one of the first students to arrive at the station and had already bid her parents goodbye.

Hermione leant back in her seat and closed her eyes. She thought of her plan and the steps required to accomplish her goals. She noted with dissatisfaction that her plan was very, very flawed at best. It somehow involved getting into the Hogwarts house full of glory-seekers, the brave and the courageous, and befriending the famous Harry Potter. The boy was the wizarding world's saviour. If she managed to become good friends with him then perhaps her accomplishments would be more noticeable as well. _Or they could become completely overshadowed_ , a voice whispered from the back of her mind. She frowned. Regardless, she knew some doors were sure to open as a result of being the boy's friend. The plan was hazy in the middle but it featured her getting fantastic grades, being well-liked, and, finally, being a Prefect and eventually Head Girl.

She knew it was ambitious but was determined to succeed. When she had first received her Hogwarts letter she realised that an entirely new school full of _magic_ was the perfect opportunity to reinvent herself. No longer would she be the frizzy-haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all who skipped lunch on the occasion because she was too embarrassed to sit alone. She was Hermione Granger. She was intelligent and determined, and she would do whatever it took to build herself into the person she wanted to be- even if that meant only answering approximately two questions per class. Well, she supposed she would still have her frizzy hair and buck teeth but she had spent the larger part of last week learning how to keep her hair from looking too ridiculous.

Her eyes snapped open as the train began to move. Phase one of the plan was about to start- mission 'Find Harry Potter'. Hopefully the boy wasn't too popular among his peers yet- although she suspected he was. And hopefully Hermione would be able to reel in her enthusiasm for her studies. She wasn't going to dumb herself down necessarily, she was just going to quell her habit of bursting out into a tirade of facts and figures when she was excited. She grinned eagerly as she stood up and exited the compartment.

* * *

Electra was currently sitting in a compartment with her best friend, Daphne Greengrass, and her worst nightmare, Pansy Parkinson. She loathed the girl and thought that she was only the slightest bit better than Draco.

Right now the Pansy was going on about her vacation to Italy. It was dreadfully boring. She was practically just listing all the things her parents had bought her over the summer. Electra tried to look interested but it was becoming increasingly difficult as time passed. Thankfully, Millicent and Tracey joined them in the compartment and began a conversation about something else.

Electra glanced over to Daphne. The girl was absent-mindedly picking at her nails. She had completely ignored Pansy's babbling and only added her input when the girls began talking about the latest issue of _Teen Witch._ Sometimes Electra wished she could be like Daphne. Daphne was picture of pureblood pride. She was pretty, poised and elegant. And since her cousin was the Greengrass heir so she had no expectations to fulfill other than get decent grades and make good relations. Daphne could afford to ignore girls like Pansy.

Electra, on the other hand, was the daughter of two confirmed Death Eaters who were currently locked in Azkaban. The fortune that would have been hers had been partially eaten away by the financing of the Dark Lord's campaigns and reparation payments to the Ministry. Her family was still exceedingly wealthy but due to her parents' unwavering faith in the Dark Lord they had failed to set up an emergency vault for her- she was almost galleonless until she reached the age of seventeen, completely at the mercy of her aunt and uncle's charity. Without her parents' protection she was also weak to the barbs and influences of the pureblood community. She was subtly insulted at almost every formal event- not for her parents' incarceration but rather because they hadn't been clever or cunning or influential enough to lie and bribe their way out of prison, like Draco's father had. It was humiliating. She knew that she should be proud that her parents had served the Dark Lord as well as they did- they were His most loyal supporters. But she also knew that loyalty wasn't as prized as much as shrewdness and self-preservation when it came to the "Slytherin Circle".

Electra excused herself from the compartment, having had enough of Pansy's voice. She made her way to the lavatory, passing Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini on the way.

"Nott," she acknowledge, "Zabini."

They nodded back at her.

She made eye contact with Nott and he smirked.

"Pansy's intolerable." He said.

Electra hummed non-committedly as she broke eye contact with the boy and continued along. She cursed silently to herself, she had forgotten that the boy was a Legilimens.

* * *

Neville was in a panic. They hadn't even reached Hogwarts yet and he had already lost his toad! His gran was going to kill him. How could he be so careless?!

He tried to steady himself by taking a deep breaths but found that only calmed him for so long. This year was promising to be a disaster! First, he had tripped while trying to lug his trunk on board. That wouldn't have been _too_ bad if he hadn't tripped right in front of Malfoy and his cronies. They immediately started making fun of him and all he could do was stare at the ground, embarrassed. During that commotion Trevor had jumped out of his pocket and somehow disappeared. Neville hadn't noticed until he almost an hour into the journey. He had to find the toad before any cats got to him!

Neville decided that he should try asking people in their compartments if they had seen the toad. He was very flustered and tried his best not to stutter. Thankfully, he got help from the second compartment he asked.

"H-Have any of you seen a toad?" Neville asked timidly, standing at the compartment doorway. Inside there were three students, they looked to be first years so Neville didn't feel _too_ apprehensive when asking them.

They shook their heads. "No, mate, we haven't," the red-head answered.

The girl stared at him thoughtfully while the two boys went back to their conversation. She jumped to her feet and smiled at him.

"I'll help you," she announced.

Neville stuttered his thanks.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," the girl said, extending her hand.

"Neville Longbottom," he answered more confidently, accepting her hand. He was thrilled that another first year was actually talking to him, _helping_ him even.

* * *

Harry watched his new friend leave with the chubby boy. Hermione was pretty interesting. She seemed to know a lot and looked into his eyes with a frightening intensity. She, like Ron, had been shocked to find out that he was _the_ Harry Potter- not that that mattered to him. But unlike Ron she didn't ask to see his scar or go on about his supposed adventures. She just smiled politely and asked him if he'd like some of her crisps. He liked her so far. He like Ron too but the boy sometimes started talking about things that he knew nothing about- like quidditch.

Ever since he had been introduced to the wizarding world in Diagon Alley Harry had felt self-conscious of his scar. This was made worse by the reactions of Ron and his family. For some reason, he felt like they were disappointed by his appearance. Like they had expected him to be different- taller or stronger maybe. It was probably just all in his head but he couldn't shake the idea that the people of the wizarding world were expecting things from him.


	4. Chapter 4

Theo watched as the Granger girl stood shakily up from the stool in the Great Hall. She had taken the longest to be sorted so far- almost 8 minutes. The girl didn't look too pleased about it either. Theo thought she might have actually started crying in the middle of her sorting but then her expression changed to anger and eventually the hat had reluctantly shouted 'Gryffindor'. For a second he thought it would be interesting to have a peek into her mind but quickly lost interest in the idea once he imagined having to go out of his way to do so.

He glanced to his side at Blaise. He could tell the boy was getting more impatient as the Sorting wore on. His friend's face stared impassively towards the front of the hall but Theo felt the annoyance slowly rolling off of him.

Blaise met his eyes and scowled. _This is ridiculous,_ he mouthed.

Theo gave him a wry smile and saw that Blaise was imagining himself stalking over to the Slytherin table with complete disregard to the Sorting.

That was Theo's favourite thing about Blaise- he never lied. He misled and withheld information from people, sure. But he never outright lied. And he wasn't afraid to make eye contact with Theo, knowing that whatever he said to his friend would be reflected in his thoughts. Of course, Theo respected his privacy and more often than not kept his Legilimency under control around the other boy.

Almost half an hour later all the first years had finally been sorted and were sitting down at their house tables. After Granger's sorting the rest of the students had been placed predictably, perhaps with the exception of Longbottom- who, despite his cowardly looking nature, was placed in Gryffindor. The "Boy-Who-Lived" was in also Gryffindor, along with another Weasley. And he, Blaise and a large majority of the pureblood families had been placed in Slytherin.

"Incoming," Blaise whispered to him in a low voice.

Theo spotted Draco Malfoy moving up to sit across from him.

"Theo," Malfoy sniffed and, after slight hesitation, acknowledged Blaise, "Zabini."

The two boys nodded back at him.

"How was your summers?" He asked while daintily serving himself, keeping his eyes on the food in front of him in order to avoid Theo's gaze.

Theo knew that, although Malfoy had asked in plural, he really was directing the question to him. The blond boy was fickle and arrogant. Theo suspected that he had been told by his father to make friends with all the clan heirs (apart from the blood traitors). Whenever they were at formal gatherings Malfoy always made it a point to try to exclude Blaise, Greengrass and some of the other non-heirs from the conversation. It didn't help that Blaise's mother didn't exactly have the best reputation among the pureblood community.

"Our summer was fine," Theo replied, helping himself to the food, "Blaise and I went to see the Romania versus Spain match over in Barcelona."

While he didn't exactly like the boy and wouldn't go out of his way to actively seek his company, Theo knew that it wouldn't hurt be familiar with Malfoy. Plus, they had grown somewhat accustom to each other after spending so much time together growing up, and it helped that Draco rarely revealed his petulant, childish side in front of him.

Theo looked idly around at the familiar faces seated at the table while Draco raved about quidditch to anyone who would listen. He felt vaguely discontented with the thought that he had grown up with the majority of the first years in his house- there were hardly any new faces. Before coming to Hogwarts he briefly entertained the idea of being sorted into Ravenclaw, if only out of curiousity. But his father would have had a fit. And it would have been too tedious to have to compete with his fellow housemates academically- he heard that Ravenclaws were worse than Slytherin when it came to backstabbing their housemates over academics. In the end, Slytherin was his best fit. He wasn't particularly ambitious but he could be cunning if he needed to. At least he wasn't put it Hufflepuff. For whatever reason, the hat had considered sending him there- spouting something about loyalty. Now _that_ was laughable.

Once the feast was over the Hermione followed the Gryffindor prefects to their rooms in the towers. She noted that the prefects were fairly friendly people with a commanding presence. She shouldn't have trouble with the commanding presence but she was worried that it would come off as bossy. The thing that she would mostly have trouble with was the friendly part- or, more specifically, the making friends part. She had manage to make some light conversation with the girls she was walking with, she helped that boy on the train find his toad, _and_ she had even spoken to Harry Potter. It was exhausting. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in an arm chair with a book.

The sorting had been a disaster! The hat had said she was best suited for Ravenclaw- which was no surprise, or _Syltherin_ \- which was terrifying. She had only been exposed to the wizarding world for a few weeks now and she had already been made aware of the prejudices a lot of purebloods had against muggleborns. She couldn't imagine what it would be like having to live in that house for seven years.

"So, Hermione, why did the hat take so long to sort you?" asked Parvati- at least Hermione thought that was her name. Another first year girl on the other side of Parvati looked interested in her answer as well.

"Oh, I'm not sure," Hermione replied, doing her best to look embarrassed, "It was very indecisive. It wanted to put me in Ravenclaw at first but then started going on about how I was brave as well and just started debating with itself. I was on there for forever. It was so embarrassing!"

The girls looked on sympathetically.

"Well, don't worry," Parvati said brightly, "You ended up in the best house!"

Hermione grinned back at her. Should she feel bad for lying? _No,_ Hermione thought, _I wasn't really lying, just twisting the truth._

She noticed Harry walking up from her right.

"Harry!" She called.

The boy smiled shyly and came up to her.

"Hey, Hermione."

"How'd you find the Sorting Ceremony?" She asked, "I knew our housing were going to be determined by the Sorting Hat. I read it in _Hogwarts, A History._ Did you know-"

She stopped herself. _No, Hermione, you sound like a know-it-all!_

"Oh, Harry," she said, changing the topic, "This is Parvati and, um, Lavender!"

The other girls immediately started questioning him. Hermione noticed that Harry began to get uncomfortable. Thankfully they arrived at the Gryffindor common room moments later.

They parted ways and Hermione followed the other first year girls. She was lost in thought.

Harry Potter wasn't at all like she expected him to be. She supposed it was because he had grown up with his muggle aunt and uncle but he seemed unusually shy. He didn't like the attention he got from his fame and he seemed quiet and meek. She had expected him to be a hero-like figure- the embodiment of Gryffindor characteristics. That, or a spoilt brat. Oh well, all the better for her, she didn't know if she'd be able to be friends with someone who was arrogant.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was the happiest he'd ever been. He loved Hogwarts. Everything was a little strange and surprising at times but everyone seemed to like him, he had delicious full meals, and he lived in a _castle._ Instead of waking up on a creaky cot in a dusty, dark cupboard he woke up on a comfy four poster bed in the dormitory he shared with his _friends._

His classes were interesting, with the exception of History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. He also wasn't as far behind as he thought he would be, all the material covered in lessons were simple enough. Hermione and Ron were more than willing to help him if he was stuck on a question.

Hagrid had been really kind to him as well. He had invited Harry over to his hut for tea and told him a little about his parents and Harry soaked in every description he heard.

His parents were heroes. Before he knew about magic Harry hated to think about his parents. They were drunks, Aunt Petunia had told him. They had gotten themselves killed because they were no good freaks. They had abandoned Harry to a life of neglect and servitude. He supposed that the last two statements were partially true. Harry's parents had been fighting against Voldemort- so in a way they had probably expected to be targeted. And he knew that they probably never meant for him to end up at the Dursleys but they hadn't set up any other alternative either. Well, not that he knew of anyways. He made a mental note to ask Hagrid if he had any other relatives- perhaps on his father's side.

To add to his excitement about Hogwarts, later today they were going to learn how to _fly._ He thought it was the craziest thing ever but most of the other kids seemed to think it was completely normal.

Currently he was having breakfast in the Great Hall and chatting to Ron and Hermione. They had all been thinking about the Gringotts break in after Harry mentioned that Hagrid had collected an important parcel for Dumbledore.

"Well, I doubt the headmaster's parcel has anything to do with the break in." Hermione said. "After all, it's almost impossible to break into Gringotts so whatever they had must be something very valuable or very dangerous. Why would Professor Dumbledore keep something like that in a place full of children?"

"I don't know Hermione," Harry said hesitantly, "I mean Hogwarts is right next to the Forbidden Forest- which is apparently very dangerous."

"Yeah, and didn't Dumbledore say we'd die painful deaths if we set foot in the room on the third floor?" Ron added with a mouthful of toast.

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't say that!" Hermione exclaimed, somewhat flustered. "That's child endangerment- to have something in a school that could potentially kill its students."

Ron shrugged.

The trio changed the topic of conversation once the mail flooded into the Great Hall. From the Slytherin table they could hear Malfoy boasting about the gifts he had received from his mother. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry didn't think that he could dislike someone as much as he disliked Dudley but Malfoy had proved him wrong. The boy was an arrogant git. He constantly insulted Harry and his friends- even when they had done nothing to provoke him. The other Slytherins weren't much better.

Over on the Slytherin table Electra was just annoyed at Draco as Harry was. She had received a curt letter from Aunt Narcissa congratulating her for being sorted into Slytherin. The letter hadn't said much else. Draco was making fun of her for not getting any presents.

"Well, cousin," Draco drawled, still in the middle of chewing his food, "What did you get from mother?" Crabbe and Goyle snickered.

Electra flushed slightly. "Just a letter, Draco," she replied, "Aunt Narcissa told me to remind you of your manners at mealtimes lest she have to schedule extra etiquette classes for you… again."

Draco scoffed and went back to talking to Crabbe, Goyle and two second years.

"He's become quite nasty, hasn't he?" Daphne said lowly.

Electra shot a disbelieving look at the girl opposite her, "Really, Daph? He's _always_ been like that."

"No, I agree with Greengrass," Blaise added. "He's gotten worse since he's been at Hogwarts."

Theo just nodded.

Later at flying lessons Electra watched as Draco made an absolute fool of himself by capturing Longbottom's Remembrall.

"You heard Ron. Give it back, Malfoy!" The Granger girl shouted, backing up Weasley's demands. The Weasley boy didn't look too happy about it. Electra had seen the annoyed looks he had shot her way sometimes.

"Don't think you can address me, _mudblood,"_ Draco spat.

Electra frowned. Even if it was true, Draco really shouldn't use such language in public.

The confrontation ended with Potter catching the Remembrall in an impressive dive and being escorted off the pitch by Professor McGonagall.

Draco was smiling smugly at the flushed faces of Granger and Weasley. She, Daphne, Theo and Blaise were bored.

During the commotion Neville had been taken to the infirmary by Madam Hooch. His wrist throbbed uncomfortably and he was extremely embarrassed by his utter lack of flying skills. Madam Pomfrey fussed over him while Hooch explained what had happened.

"Oh, dear," Madam Pomfrey tutted, "Yes, a broken wrist. Well we'll have that healed in an hour or so. Take these potions, dear."

She brought the two potions to Neville's mouth and made him swallow the foul tasting mixtures.

"Right, now you just rest here for a bit. Keep your hand relaxed on the arm rest and try not to jostle it."

He nodded. When she left Neville could feel tears gathering in his eyes. He wiped them away with his other arm. He had been having a terrible time at Hogwarts so far. He was dismal in all his classes, save for Herbology. He was pretty sure his fellow Gryffindor housemates only spoke to him to get help with their Herbology homework or because they felt sorry for him. And his only friends- who were really only friends with him because they'd be forced together by their parents- were in Hufflepuff.

This was the second time he had been in the infirmary since school started. The first time had been when he spilt a botched potion all over himself because Snape's voice had made him jump. The potion caused him to break out into painful boils.

Neville gritted his teeth. It wasn't _fair._ Why was he so _pathetic_? He felt his face grow hot as his mind drifted to Malfoy and his Remembrall. Draco Malfoy and Snape took every opportunity to berate him and make him feel more useless than he already was. Why couldn't they just leave him _alone?_

 _Snape's a Professor too!_ He thought angrily, _He shouldn't be allowed to treat me like that._

He was broken out of his thoughts when the pewter vase on the table beside the infirmary cot suddenly ruptured, sending the water and flowers it was contained flying outwards. Neville groaned and hung his head. He couldn't even control his accidental magic.

He held his father's wand awkwardly in his left hand and whispered " _Reparo!"_ Instead of fixing itself the warped metal vase melted into a silvery liquid and dripped off the table. Neville sighed, he was the worst wizard ever.

That evening at dinner Malfoy challenged Harry to a wizard's duel- which Ron accepted for him. Hermione resisted the urge to slap her forehead and groan. Harry didn't know the first thing about duelling and the only offensive spell they had learned during Defence was a weak Knockback Jinx. This was going to be a disaster.

The trio made their way over to the Gryffindor table.

"You two aren't really going to go, are you?" Hermione asked while dropping into her seat.

"Of course we are!" Ron shouted.

"Ronald, hush," Percy hissed from up the table.

Hermione shook her head.

"You don't think we should, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione stated, "Malfoy won't show. He'll get you into trouble. And if he does show, well, you all will be found out in a matter of minutes. Duels aren't exactly quiet, you know?"

Ron glared at her, "We have to go. If we don't and he does show up he'll think we're cowards. And Gryffindors aren't cowards!"

"He won't show," Hermione repeated but Harry and Ron already looked convinced.

 _Well, I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands,_ Hermione thought.

That night Ron and Harry crept out of the boy's dormitory and spotted Hermione lounging in an armchair in the common room, waiting for them.

"Are you coming along, Hermione?" Harry whispered.

"No. And you two aren't going either. I've already sent an anonymous tip to Filch about a duel happening in the Trophy Room. If Malfoy _is_ going, he'll be caught."

Ron bristled, "What the hell did you do that for?!"

Hermione looked pointedly back at him, "Ronald, he wasn't going to show up anyway. You two were going to get into trouble."

"Stop being so meddling, woman!" Ron hissed, "You can't control what we do! Stop being so bossy!"

Harry watched on helplessly as his two friends glared each other down.

"Maybe I am meddling but I'm trying to keep the two of you from getting yourself killed, or worse, _expelled._ " She retorted.

"You're insufferable!" Ron said angrily, "You know, the only reason me and Harry hang out with you is 'cause you wouldn't have any friends otherwise!"

Hermione eyes widened and before Harry could say anything she stalked past them and up the stairs to the girls' dorms.

Ron immediately seemed to regret what he had said.

"Nice going, mate," Harry said.

"I didn't meant to," Ron said weakly, "I was just mad."

Harry sighed, "Nevermind. We'll apologise to her tomorrow. Let's go to bed."

The next morning they couldn't find Hermione anywhere. She had woken up and gotten breakfast early, then didn't show up for lunch. Harry and Ron thought they'd be able to catch her at dinner, considering it was the Halloween Feast, but she wasn't at the table when they arrived.

Hermione was in the ground floor girls' bathroom. She had been moping all day. She didn't think Ron had really meant what he had said but then again, she couldn't be sure. She knew she could be bossy at times and she really did like being in control of a situation. The only reason she was bossier than usual with Harry and Ron was because they were absolutely hopeless. Ron was thick-headed and stubborn and idealised Harry into a leadership figure but Harry was naïve and used Ron as his source of knowledge about the wizarding world! Harry had the potential to be intelligent but he didn't have the ambition. He had the potential to be a leader but, although he was improving, he just didn't have the confidence.

She sunk her head into her hands. She was hungry but was too embarrassed to walk into the Great Hall now, knowing how awkward it would be with Ron and Harry there.

 _Have I been doing something wrong?_ She asked herself. _I mean, I suppose I do feel somewhat guilty for wanting Harry's friendship for my own selfish reasons… but… he is really my friend now. And what Ron said isn't true. Lavender, Sophie, and Parvati like me, don't they?_

Should she have just let them do what they wanted to do? Even if it might have caused them harm? It was an uncomfortable question that was swirling around in her head. She had never had good friends before, she wasn't sure how she should be acting.

Back in the Great Hall Neville was enjoying the Halloween Feast. Last evening, after getting back from the infirmary, Harry had returned his Remembrall to him and they chatted for a bit. He had also decided to take an interest in sport. He wasn't good at it and he had never really liked watching it before but he figured that since all the boys in his dorm liked it he should make an effort to as well. Seamus and Dean had immediately launched into impassioned arguments about quidditch and this muggle sport, football. It was entertaining to watch, they were still at it by the time the Halloween Feast rolled around.

"You guys only have one ball and aren't even _flying,"_ Seamus contended, "Where's the skill in that?"

"There's absolutely skill involved!" Dean said, "We don't use our hands-"

Dean and Seamus' conversation was interrupted when Professor Quirrel burst into the Great Hall screaming about a troll before collapsing. The Hall erupted in chaos. Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to escort the students back to their rooms.

Neville was following the Prefects when he spotted Ron and Harry breaking away from the group. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence he decided to follow them.

They sprinted down the hallway before turning around the corner and coming to a halt outside the girls' bathroom. The two boys seemed to pause for a moment before a scream resounded from inside the bathroom. They immediately exclaimed "Hermione!" and burst through the doors.

Neville paused at the corner. Should he go in? There was a lot of unhuman-like grunting and crashing. The troll was in the bathroom! Neville broke out into a sweat and willed his feet to move but he was frozen in place.

His heart hammered in his chest. He should go help. He should go in and, and… what could he really do? If he tried to help fight the troll off he'd probably be more of a nuisance than anything. He'd probably get himself killed.

Neville clenched his fists. He was a coward. The only thing he could do now was get the teachers. He turned around and ran back the way he came.

* * *

Author's Note: I know I'm being mean to poor Neville but I have plans for him so bear with me. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Christmas was nearing at Hogwarts and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had stumbled upon a mystery. Harry had gone to Hagrid's for tea one evening and mentioned something about the Gringotts break in to which Hagrid had replied "Now don't yeh worry 'bout that, Harry. That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel." Hermione eagerly jumped at the chance to solve a puzzle.

With quidditch matches and training well underway, Harry had been surprised that his grades had only been improving. Although he chalked that up to Hermione's insistence that they spend at least _some_ of their free time studying. The girl had worked out a schedule that wasn't too demanding but would make sure that the boys finished their assignments and did a little extra reading on the side (Ron wasn't too pleased about that). Honestly, Harry was glad that the girl took charge sometimes. He had a nagging feeling that Ron expected him to rise to all challenges and dictate what the group was going to do.

Snape still caused Harry trouble in Potions but it wasn't as bad as it was at the start of the year. The real problem was Defence classes. Harry had not been able to sit through one Defence class without getting an eye-watering headache.

"You need to go to the nurse, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry shook his head, rubbing his scar.

"I think she's right, mate. I mean, if it's hurting your scar it can't be good, right?" Ron added.

Harry just shrugged.

The end of the week signalled the beginning of the Christmas holidays. Hermione had gone home to visit her parents while Ron and Harry stayed in the castle. They were pleased to note that most of the Slytherin table had gone home as well.

Theo found himself at the Malfoy manor on Christmas Eve for the Malfoy's annual Yuletide Party. Unfortunately, Blaise was holidaying in Switzerland with his mother and new step-father, and Daphne had gone skiing with her family in France. He had yet to spot Electra and was currently amusing himself by listening to gossip around the ballroom. He made sure to keep his Legilimency in check, most of the people present at the party knew Occlumency and some would know if he went peeking into their minds.

He finally spied Electra on the porch in a bench partially hidden from the ballroom windows, she looked equally as bored as he felt.

"Enjoying the party?" He asked.

She locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. _What do you think?_ She thought very loudly and clearly in her head. Theo grinned.

Electra was the de facto leader of their little group- if they really had to say they had one. Theo liked to think of himself as an observer and was usually the quietest. Daphne mostly followed Electra unless a topic had to do with fashion or makeup or occasionally destroying someone's reputation- then she took charge. She and Blaise were the loudest and were constantly arguing. Blaise was just lazy (much like Theo), he preferred to lounge about and complain about a situation or make sarcastic comments. Theo hated to admit it but his friend was probably just as spoilt and prissy as Draco. The only difference was that Blaise was a lot more intelligent and never actually acted spoilt. Electra was not as loud or quick to voice her opinions as the other two but when her temper was lit the dark-haired girl could go on scathing rants. She was in the best position to protect the group's social standing in Slytherin. She was on Pansy's good side and knew how to counter Draco's barbs. And whenever someone in the upper years would bring up her parents she would just put on this odd, dark smile that made people feel uncomfortable and confused.

They stood in silence for a while. It was a little awkward with just the two of them. They were very rarely alone, most of the time Daphne or Blaise would be there to talk.

"What do you think of school so far?" He asked, it wasn't the best question to pose but it was certainly better than nothing.

"I like it well enough," Electra answered, "I think the lessons are a bit boring and I don't know why Binns is allowed to teach but other than that it's fairly entertaining. Pansy is beginning to get on my nerves though."

Theo laughed, "What's she doing? Other than being loud and vile?"

Electra frowned, "She's attached herself to Draco and seems to think that just because he can insult me, she can as well. It's not serious yet, she's just testing the waters to see how much she can get away with. She usually covers it up by announcing that she was joking but it can't go on for much longer."

Although Electra was in a bind economically, her family were above Pansy's in Pureblood status- if only just barely. Her family's reputation probably took a blow once her mother and father were convicted to Azkaban.

"You should become friends with her cousin in third year," Theo said, smirking, "I've heard an embarrassing rumour that the main branch have had their vaults frozen pending an investigation into some questionable activities. Pansy's dad had to borrow money from his disgraced muggle-loving brother."

"Wasn't he the one that was blasted off the family tree?" Electra questioned.

"No, that was the other cousin. Pansy's uncle married a muggleborn but they didn't disown him because the man practically maintains the family fortune. You know how frivolous the Parkinson's are with their money. If it wasn't for him they probably would've spent a quarter of the family fortune by now."

"How scandalous," Electra grinned, "We should really come up with a way to utilise your amazing information gathering skills, Theo."

Theo shook his head, still smiling, "Are you kidding? You'll find me dead in the supplies cupboard in less than a week if anyone discovers I'm handing out family secrets."

"We could be on top of the Slytherin food chain by the time we're in fourth year," Electra tempted.

"Leave me out of it," Theo laughed, "I'm very comfortable in the background. I don't particularly have any desire to see people grovel before me."

Back at Hogwarts on Christmas night Harry found himself standing alone in a room, entranced by a large ornate mirror. He had stumbled across the room while running from Filch after he had almost been caught in the restricted section of the library.

He has staring at himself. However, instead of an empty room behind him, his mother and father stood at his side. His father had his hand on his shoulder and was staring at him proudly, and his mother was moving down his hair and looking at him lovingly. He could almost feel the ghost of her touch on the crown of his head.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there for but eventually he was startled out of his trance by a noise. He donned the invisibility cloak and returned to the dormitories.

The next night he returned again. He debated on whether he should tell Ron or not but decided against it. Ron might get bored if he just had to stand there, looking at an image of Harry's family.

This time the image had changed. He was sitting down in the chamber but in the mirror he was sitting in a warm living room. His parents were curled up on the couch behind him, chatting amiably. It looked like an advertisement from a commercial that Harry had seen on tv. They were a happy family.

That night Harry had a dream that he was tiny. He looked up and saw that a giant version of his mother was smiling down at him. She reached her hand out, expecting him to take it. He felt happiness bubble up inside him but that quickly turned to horror when he realised that no matter how much he tried to grab her hand his fingers would just past right through. The dream ended abruptly with a women screaming and a flash of green light.

The Great Hall was mostly empty by the time Harry and Ron arrived for their breakfast. There had been something that Harry had been yearning to find the answer to ever since he first saw his parents in the mirror.

"Ron," Harry said.

The red-haired boy looked up from the quidditch scores in the Prophet.

"Are there any… spells to bring a person back to life?" He asked hesitantly.

Ron furrowed his brows, "Not that I know of."

"Yeah, but," Harry continued, "We have ghosts in Hogwarts. How does that happen? I mean their spirits are technically still here, right?"

Ron shrugged, "I have no idea, mate. You'll have to ask them."

Ron suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Besides, even if there were rituals that could bring people back from the dead they'd probably be _Dark_ , y'know?"

Harry didn't know but he nodded anyways.

That night he was in the chamber again. This time he was sitting in a park somewhere. His mother was sitting beside him, her red hair blowing in the breeze, in her lap was a red-haired toddler. His father was behind him with a broomstick, instructing a small dark-haired girl how to fly. How could the mirror possibly know these things? He'd only seen one picture of his parents and somehow his mind had conjured up a million scenarios of what his parents looked like and how they acted exactly and what his life would have been like if they were still alive.

On the fourth night he was caught by Dumbledore. The man told him that the mirror showed him deepest desire and that it would be moved to a safer place. Harry had relented and went back to bed but he felt desperation well up inside him. Dumbledore was right to warn him, if he had it his way he would have sat down in front of that mirror until sunrise.


End file.
